No Witch Worries
by Kalira69
Summary: Scott doesn't want Derek to freak out - but there's a new witch in town, making nice with Stiles. (Soulmate AU. Wolf Derek. Fluff.)


"Derek, I need you to not freak out." Scott said, plastering his back against the door he'd just slammed.

Derek immediately tensed. He rose from the couch, putting aside the book he'd been reading, and eyed Scott warily. He had a brief thought about telling Scott that wasn't the best way to start if he truly didn't want to cause alarm, but waited to hear what had Scott so worked up first.

"Are you calm?" Scott asked and Derek growled at him. He startled.

"I don't know what's going _on_." Derek said as patiently as he could.

"It's Stiles, he-" Derek's heart-rate jumped and Scott broke off. "See, you're upset!" he yelled, pointing almost accusingly.

" _What about Stiles?_ " Derek ground out, curling his fingers in towards his palms. He ran over what Stiles had told him but could think of nothing his mate had mentioned that should have been even remotely. . . He shook his head, hackles prickling.

"Well, uh. . ." Scott hesitated. "There's . . . a new witch in town."

"Is Stiles all right?" Derek demanded. He _should_ know, if something was wrong, if Stiles was hurt, he thought. . .

"No, it's not- Well." Scott frowned, shaking his head slowly. "They don't _seem_ to be a threat. She." he corrected, and Derek growled, irritated. "Well I think there's just her in _town_ , but there were others with her when she came in. . ."

"Is. Stiles. _All right_." Derek ground out.

"Stiles is fine! Um. I think?" Scott said with a nervous smile. "He was having lunch with her at the di-" he broke off, eyes wide. "Oh, Derek, I'm sorry- I mean. Well Stiles _wouldn't_ obviously - like she may have been flirting, like . . . I think to get to him? But _Stiles_ -"

"Stop." Derek said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Scott was giving him a headache and he _still_ didn't know what he was supposed to 'not be freaking out' about. "Stiles is okay. There's a witch in town but she hasn't hurt anything. Her coven dropped her off when she moved in but left. Stiles _knows_ the witch is here and has been talking to her. Is that right?" he said sharply.

"Uh, yes?" Scott said, brows drawing together.

"Is anything _wrong_?" Derek demanded, his hand over his jacket. He wasn't going to run out to find Stiles unless there was a _reason_ to - he was a grown man and he was _not_ going to do that - but if there was. . .

"I. . . I'm not sure about this witch." Scott said, frowning, and Derek frowned.

"Wouldn't talking to Stiles be better than talking to me?" Derek asked. He hadn't noticed anything strange. He'd ask Stiles when he got home, but if he was talking to the witch it was likely that either she was harmless, or Stiles was already onto her. In which case . . . he had better already be planning to tell Derek - and the others - about it.

Derek would make _sure_ to ask him, just in case he planned to handle it himself.

Scott took another ten minutes to tell Derek nothing more helpful and then leave, and he huffed, texted Stiles to ask him if he was still planning to have dinner with his dad tonight, and then walked out onto the back porch to breathe in the woods.

His phone buzzed with Stiles' reply that his dad was working tonight, so he'd be there shortly after six, and Derek smiled. Then, still on edge, he left his clothes on the porch and leapt off over the railing, landing on four paws and slipping into the woods for a run.

The door creaked quietly - Stiles had offered to try and fix it, but aside from the horror of Stiles attempting home repair, Derek liked the little noise - and Derek flicked an ear.

"Hi babe." Stiles said happily, slinging his messenger bag to the floor and sliding up and over the high edge of the big round chair and flopping down into the centre of Derek's lazy curl. Derek yipped as the shaggy fur of his ruff was pulled, but didn't try and squirm out from beneath Stiles - he was tall and solid, but not too heavy.

Stiles cooed apologetically, twisting onto one elbow and throwing his arms around Derek's neck, cuddling closer. Derek sighed happily and tucked his muzzle over Stiles' shoulder, one forelimb folding over Stiles' hip.

Derek shoved his muzzle into Stiles' hair and breathed him in - it was growing shaggy again, and he loved it like this; able to get his fingers in it, knowing it carried his scent easily. Stiles laughed and squirmed against him, but didn't push him away, only tucked in against his rib.

Stiles' clever fingers burrowed into his thick fur over his ribs and scratched lightly, in just the right way to leave pleasant tingling feelings behind. Derek heaved a sigh and sprawled out a little more, resting his head across Stiles' collarbone.

Stiles stroked a hand over his head, pushing his ears back, and Derek flicked one ear in half-protest, but let him keep doing it. It was smooth and rhythmic, the long, firm strokes over and over his head and ruff - calming.

Though Derek had nearly bitten Erica when she made a crack about him being Stiles' replacement for having grown up without a pet.

He hadn't had to; Stiles' eyes had glowed briefly almost-gold and when Erica sat down on the worn out recliner right after that it had collapsed and thrown her into the floor. Derek huffed. Stiles would never _hurt_ one of their pack . . . but his protective temper was a warm, comforting feeling for Derek all the same. Even more, perhaps, for knowing that it extended to the pack - but lesser, always, than it did around Derek.

He shifted his head and nosed the interesting scents clinging to Stiles' shirt, and a whiff of St John's Wort made his nose tickle. He held back a sneeze, snorting hard instead, and remembered the witch Scott had so freaked out over.

He rested his jaw on Stiles' arm and met his eyes, thinking about it.

Stiles rubbed his ear, then tugged it lightly. "There's a witch in town." he said with a shallow nod. "I should have told you," he agreed when Derek rumbled disapprovingly, "I would have; she's only been here a week - but she's fine. She's here to study something in the historical section of our library. Be here for a month or two maybe. We've had some interesting conversations."

Derek huffed and put his ears back, baring one fang and then relaxing again. Stiles laughed. "She's a little strange, and she's curious about you wolves," Stiles' eyes narrowed, and Derek _felt_ sparks he couldn't see coming off his mate, and knew that he might trust her not to cause harm, but no more, and not with the safety of his pack "but she's taught me a few things about, you know, non emergency circles and an empowering moon ritual I'm very curious to try."

Derek made an encouraging noise and happily listened to Stiles ramble about his theory for the moon ritual and what he planned to tweak about it, then on to what he'd learned from the witch. All the while his busy hands were either waving illustratively or stroking through Derek's fur, twisting in his ruff, or petting back his ears.

It was comfortable, a content, easy way to unwind at the end of the day when they came back together. Derek nudged his head up a little more, Stiles' arms falling around his shoulders, and licked under his jaw affectionately, making him burst into laughter.

Derek's tail thumped against the chair as it wagged once, and Stiles grinned and kissed the top of his muzzle, pulling gently-rough at his ears with both hands.

* * *

This was written for my multi-fandom soulmate AU challenge, #9 of 10, and the prompt was 'Betrayal' which is why there is this weak attempt at a plot, which I refused to indulge into something terrible and diverted into fluffy snuggles.


End file.
